I think its fair to say that when things go wrong they really go wrong.
This weekend was to be my annual visit to Derby. Initially I intended to travel down on the Saturday, but a late night in Newcastle on the Friday watching Rod Stewart [ 49 times] led to me creeping back to bed and not driving down.
I'll go on the Sunday thinks I, so up bright eyed and bushy tailed, into my car, newly washed and fueled, looking forward to a great days shopping and looking.
Two miles later............
Two miles later, I found myself T packed by a jaguar full of people en route to a golfing tournament.
My lovely car is a right off, and I found that fate has a way of kicking you in the cods.
If that wasn't enough, I now find that the driver of the Jaguar doesn't seem to want to play ball and provide any insurance details. Somehow I don't think he has any.
Thinking about it, now that I am recovering from the shock of the accident, leaving me by myself with my car up a grass verge, covered in air bag and dazed wasn't really the gentlemanly thing to do, which should have tipped me off to what they were about.
So unable to grip a paint brush tightly and down to my last four stone of metal figures you realise that some things are not meant to be.
What really capped it all was I had to spend the majority of my wargaming cash on paying for a low loader to collect my car and bring me home...... The joys of wargaming.